And I thought BOWs where a pain
by Cole Tyger
Summary: introducing some new characters to my fic 'verse  i really need to get the other stuff uploaded so the one shots make more sense  and setting the stage with a teaser for further stuff featuring characters and setting from WE-R-NOMAD over on D.A.


And I thought B.O.W.s where a pain…..

"Ladies, let's show these trashcans what happens when you piss us off!" I call into the mic in my helmet. As I suit actions to words, a chorus of battle cries echo back through the net, and out of the power armors' external speakers.

"This is Agent Ikaki, C.A.T. Suits have been deployed," I inform the folks trying to keep us out of the robots care.

* * *

Hey all.

Guess you're wondering what's going on, huh?

Heh, me too…..

Let's just say it started when I got my third assignment from the B.S.S.A….

* * *

"So you see, we were only attempting to assist in researching a way to reverse the effects of the virus," The Colonel in charge of the base we are staging from tries to explain to me after I ask him just what the gay blue hell they were thinking.

"Which resulted in an outbreak situation, more than likely all personnel at the site, and how many civilians to date?" I shoot back, counting the points off on my fingers. No, I'm not particularly pleasant when morons cause an outbreak. It means more people are dead that wouldn't be if they had left well enough alone, and that just pisses me off.

"Now I understand how you got your nickname Agent," he counters, glaring back at me. He needs to practice more, 'cause I've had experts mad at me, and his glare is a joke.

"Yeah, there is a reason they call me the Red Witch," I smirk back. "But the ones that hung that name on me happened to be the first bunch of goons I brought in. I blame my first partner for spreading it around."

"Oh?" he asks, seemingly amused now that I'm not tearing into him anymore.

"Yeah, what I just did to you was the light version. They got the riot act while I beat the tar out of them," I grin at him.

"Are you always so…volatile?" he asks.

"Sir," I answer, since showing him a bit of respect probably won't kill me, and will most likely make this go easier, "maggots like that caused an incident that cost me my parents. When it comes to dealing with outbreaks, and the slime behind them, I'd rather shoot them then bring them in. But regardless of my personal feeling, I'm here to do a job, and it WILL be done to the best of my ability, or I'm going to die trying."

That sets him back, and makes him re-evaluate several opinions he's been forming about me since I walked into his office.

"I begin to understand your drive, Agent. Forgive me for insulting you and your loss," he returns, most of the aggressiveness flowing out of his posture.

"It's understandable, I know I'm not the easiest person to deal with on this subject," I return, letting him off the hook. "But if B.S.S.A. hadn't been fully informed about what you were up to out here before hand, this would be a lot less pleasant."

"Why do I have the feeling it would involve you kicking me in the head?" he smirks, trying to make a joke of it.

"If you're lucky, that would be the least of what I would do before getting you into lockup," I retort. "Now that the getting acquainted is out of the way, what say you give me the details on your mess, so I can go clean it up?"

What follows is a terse briefing on the facility, and what exactly they do know, before communications where lost.

"You actually had B.O.W.s on sight? What the hell for?" I demand when he brings them up.

"It was felt that being able to destroy the virus within them would be safer than having actual viral samples that could possibly be released," he answers. "Since your organization has managed to capture several of them still in stasis, it was deemed an acceptable risk."

"So what went wrong?" I ask, reminding myself that they were completely above board on this and went ahead with the higher ups blessings. Fucking Baka.

"As near as we can tell before we lost contact, one of our attempted cures triggered a mutation in one of the subjects," he answers.

"Were you working on Umbrella stock, or some of the copy-cats?" I ask.

"I honestly do not know. B.S.S.A. supplied them for us, along with a string of precautions to take in case something went wrong with their stasis cells. I have no information on their true origins," he admits.

"Alright, so I'm assuming that you followed the warnings," I comment.

"Oh, yes. The stasis pods where heavily guarded, with multiple backup systems to ensure that the contents remained asleep. That is why we believe it occurred in the lab itself," he returns.

"What where you experimenting on?" I finally ask, since he has been skirting that issue up till now.

With a deep sigh, he admits, "Our subjects where the B.O.W.s that are commonly referred to as Hunters."

"Well that's just peachy," I scowl. "How many?" I demand.

"We had a total of twelve to begin with. I don't have any information on how many may have been destroyed through experimentation though," he answers.

"Okay, how many people did you have on site?" I ask him, while silently swearing at the news. A dozen of the most vicious and agile living weapons Umbrella ever created for their little nightmare hobby. FUCK!

"The security force was one hundred men strong, and there were around thirty researchers," he informs me.

"Alright, give me a site over view," I return, standing up as he pulls out a map and unrolls it across his desk.

"So far, we have lost contact with only one village, here," he points at a spot on the map, "and as a result, have evacuated these two as well, leaving only small surveillance teams in them to keep watch for evidence of infection spreading that far."

"Last contact with your teams?" I ask.

"One hour ago. They are six man teams, and operate in two man shifts to keep them alert. They have orders to report in every three hours," he explains.

"Alright, that's pretty good, we should get some descent warning with that kind of set up," I admit, impressed by this. Most army types can't get it through their heads that zombies and monsters don't behave like other enemies. There is hope for this guy yet.

"So what else will you need from us?" he asks after giving me a quick over view of the research base.

"Minimum I need enough troops from you to completely encircle the site, and beat the bush all the way back to the base, after we clear it out. Ideally, enough napalm to scorch this area clear," I answer him, circling an area roughly two miles wider than their evacuation zone.

"Why! Why do you want to destroy so much terrain?" he sputters in shock.

"Sir," I begin, trying to make this sound reasonable. So far no one has particularly cared for my idea of making sure the infestation is cleaned completely. "You have done a fairly good job of protecting civilians, and containing the area, but there is a lot of land here, and most of it with heavy ground cover. There is no way you can tell what infected animals might be lurking out there. I don't like risking more people than absolutely needed, so I advocate burning the zone clean after we make sure the bigger threats are handled."

"I will pass your request up the chain of command, but I don't have the authority to authorize such a plan," he finally tells me.

"Then get your manpower together as plan B," I tell him, turning to leave.

"One last thing," he calls as I reach the door. "We would like you to recover the data logs from the site."

Of course you do, I groan internally. "No promises, but I will attempt to recover your research for you, if for no other reason to help keep this particular foul up from recurring."

Then I leave the office. I need to let the rest in on what we have to deal with.

Leaving the building, it's a short walk to the motor pool building, where my team is currently modifying a pair of Dues-and-a-half's. "Snow plow blades, sunroof gunner stations, and grid cover for the windows, not bad for having so little time to work gang," I grin as the first of them notice me inspecting their progress.

"Sorry boss, but it's going to be a bumpy ride in these old monsters. But they are generally dependable," one of them responds from beneath the large vehicle, apparently checking the undercarriage for faults that could bite us in the ass once we leave.

"We make due with what's available, just like always," I agree, checking out the other truck. "Adapt and overcome" aren't just pretty words, or a motto, with us. We either do it, or we end up dead.

"These big girls here have enough fuel in the tanks to go to the site and back a half dozen times each," another reports. "Fuel will NOT be a concern."

"Good. I hate running out of gas," I smirk. I genuinely like this bunch. I hate that fact that I know not all of us will make it back. We never do…

"Gather round boys and girls, it's time to share the details on the cluster fuck they have going on down here," I call loudly enough to get the attention of the rest of my two dozen strong S.O.U. team. I need to remember to drop Sugarman a note of thanks for teaching me about getting to know the people under my command. It hurts more when I lose them, but we are a better team for it.

"So how bad is it?" one of them asks.

Another counters with, "Mary, they called us out here. The fan hasn't been hit, it's been buried."

"Jonsie is unfortunately on the right track," I tell them, giving them the rundown of the mess. "And to top it off, there are an unknown number of hunters running loose. The only high point there is there will not be more than a dozen total."

"Fuck me running, sideways, with a chainsaw," one of my more colorful troops groans on hearing that.

"I don't think that's physically possible, but it's an interesting mental image," I smirk back at him, causing the rest to erupt into laughter. "But seriously, the current thought is that one of their "cures"," I air quote the word, just to prove how dumb it is in this context. "Triggered an unexpected mutation in one of the Hunters, not only waking it up, but letting it break out of its restraints before it could be put down."

"That is some mean medicine there," one of them adds with a low whistle.

"Yeah, and a bitter pill for the rest. We all know how nasty hunters are, some from firsthand experience," I add, nodding to some of my veteran team members. "And I have no idea what this thing may be like now. I'm going to run on a worst case plan, and expect it to be at least as tough to kill as a Tyrant."

"Yippee. Who has the R.P.G. launcher?" one of them mutters.

"Sorry, but this isn't an Op where we can just go in and blow it all to hell. They want the Research Data, if we can collect it. Given that our bosses cleared them to run this S.N.A.F.U., we are going to try, provided it doesn't get us killed," I tell them.

"That's why we like you boss," one of them calls from the back of the group. "You never sugar coat just how Fucked we are."

The rest get another laugh at that, before I clap my hands and call, "Mount up! Time to make the world safe from monsters and zombies, one more time!"

* * *

"Can they make these things any more uncomfortable? I think my ass has spring prints in it," I groan as we pull up outside the parameter fence of the research base.

"Could have rode on the wood benches like we did," one of the gang from the back of the second truck grins.

"I think I will on the ride back," I retort, talk of going home afterward always lifting spirits, especially when staring down the barrel of a Biohazard incident.

"Fence doesn't look damaged," one of the guys still up top in the trucks calls, keeping an eye open for the first thing we will have to deal with.

"Well, that's good and bad," another answers him. "Means all the zombie folks will still be inside, but the fence doesn't much matter to Hunters. A Normal one could jump that, let alone the freak."

"Yeah, but it means we have a head start on containment. But we already know some things got out, they lost a village already, remember?" I remind them.

"Well, boss, we headin' in? or you want us to play in the woods first?" Duffy, the second squad leader asks, cutting through the comments and telling the rest it's time to get real.

"We go in. With luck, anything out in the woods will come back in for us," I tell them, moving to open the gate myself.

"Eyes open people, and be ready for bodies to get up. You all know the drill," Carter, the first squad leader orders, followed by a round of clacks, clicks and other assorted noises as they double check their weapons yet again.

Yeah, I trust this bunch to do the job and get us home in one piece.

"How's it feel to be on your own, without out a senor agent looking over your shoulder?" Carter grins as he moves to cover me as I drag the gate open enough for the trucks to roll in.

"Kind of scary," I admit. "Now if I make a mistake, we don't have someone to counter my orders and keep us alive despite me."

"Boss, if you worry about bringing us back home, then you're doing good," he tells me, giving me a pat on the shoulder before moving past to cover the far side of the gate, leaving me on this side.

"Bring 'em in!" I call out, causing the drivers to roll the big trucks into the yard, so I can close the gate back up.

"Duffy, you take your crew and search the outer buildings. Make sure to collect weapons and ammo, to make a dump near the trucks," I call out to them.

"Expecting things to go south on us boss?" he asks, a concerned look on his face.

"Covering our asses. We know we have a wild card, and we don't know how tough it is. I want an ace in the hole," I tell him.

"Gotcha," he nods, gathering his squad and heading toward the barracks building.

"Carter, your gang comes with me into the lab. Let's see if we can salvage their data right away. If we can, then I don't see why we can't rig the place full of tripwires, and claymores, or something nastier, and find a nice secure little cubby to watch the fireworks from," I tell them, getting several grins at that suggestion.

"Uhhhh," we all hear as a shambling victim of the incident stumbles around the far corner of the lab building.

"Duffy, be warned, we have confirmed infected," I call into the com gear, as I draw my sidearm.

"Jeez, boss, I still don't know how such a slip of a girl like you can fire that monster one handed like that," Carter winces as the .44 magnum discharges and takes most of the zombies head with it.

"I usually need my other hand for my sword," I remind him, reaching over my shoulder and drawing the shorter of the two blades there. I say a small prayer to my parents and other ancestors as always to guide my hand and keep my people safe. "I need a door man," I call as I head for the door to the lab.

Carter takes the far side, while another troop lays down in fr9ont of the door, his butt nearly touching it, and raises both feet to kick it open. When I get nods from the other two, I nod back, and carter turns the knob as the other man lashes out, blasting the door open and holding against the wall with his foot. At the sound of the impact, I spin toward the opening, my gun arm and aiming eye all that clears the door frame, while carter exposes a bit more as he leans around and levels his combat shotgun.

"Clear," Carter calls, when we don't immediately detect any threat.

"Negative!" I counter, having caught a flash of movement in the darkness before a long pink limb of some sort lashes out, and takes a chunk out of the door as the guy in the center rolls clear and the door swings back.

"The Fuck is that?" Carter demands, as we hug the outside fo the building and wait for it to come to us.

"Fire Team ready!" I order as we move back away from the door.

When it sticks its blue tinged frog faced head out of the door, it catches roughly thirty rounds of large caliber shotgun ammo in the face. Needless to say, there isn't much head left after that.

"Anybody else know what this thing is?" I ask. When there is just a mass of muttering, I announce my opinion. "Okay, according to the legends, there are at least four kinds of Hunters that have been encountered. The Green Meanies are the normal, mass produced types. Three experimental types where also noted, an amphibious type, one with the ability to blend in like a chameleon, and one with some extra snake blended in, so that is has poison sacks in its fangs and claws."

"So this thing IS a hunter?" Carter demands, surprised.

"Amphibious type if I'm right, which explains the killer frog tongue," I nod.

"You kids alright back there?" Duffy asks over the net.

"Watch your ass, we have a grab back of Hunter types here, not just the green ones,' I call back.

"Wait, you mean those weren't just stories Chris and Jill where telling?" he asks, in surprise.

"I read the files, just like everyone else, and I'll be damned if we didn't just dust a frog type," I answer him. "So be careful, we have no idea what else is here."

"Roger that," he answers, passing the info and warning to his team.

"Alright, if that's the case, then this is going to be less effective than I originally thought," I mutter, re-sheathing my blade and holstering my pistol. "Okay, it's a risk bunching up, but I want to be able to concentrate firepower if we find another one of these bastards in the hall," I say as I un-sling my own shotgun.

Let's see how they like magnum round slugs.

"You and you, second line, you, with me," I order, pointing at people as I proceed back to the doorway, and sneak a look around the corner. Leaning back afterward I tell them, "We go in first, and if we find a target, we drop to our knees so the second line can fire without us in the way. It's not as good as what we did out here, but the halls are limited for space."

When they nod in understanding, we go, with the rest of the team following up, and Carter walking drag, covering all our backs. Sporadic gunfire echoes back to us, indicating that Duffy's team has found a few shamblers, but nothing to get overly concerned about yet. Not like our discovery. Those things were supposed to be limited run experimental models, and the only known sighting of them that I've ever been aware of was back in Raccoon before the place got wiped off the map. Seeing them here scares the crap out of me, because it means that this isn't just someone trying to duplicate Umberlla's stuff, these are their originals. Which means no accidental defects to give us a bonus edge against them. Plus there is still the mutated one out here yet.

A burst of static is followed by the whoosh of a flame thrower over the com as Duffy reports in.

"Be advised we have found a Spider nest in one of the barracks. They are currently becoming extra crispy with an eye toward being char-b-qued," he quips letting us know that he's got the situation well in hand.

"Good, I hate spiders," our current rookie, Heather Carver, mutters, not realizing her mic keyed in on it.

I let it slide, 'cause the rest will give her a hard time for it later. But I make a mental not to keep her close, just in case. It's not likely she's made it this far if she's prone to hysterics, but I'd hate to be wrong.

"Bodies," my partner on lead reports, bringing me back to the here and now.

"More like possible threats," I mutter, and am proven right as one begins to crawl toward us, his legs mangled to the point they will no longer support him, while another lurches to his feet and begins to shamble toward us, moaning in mindless hunger.

I let the my partner take the shambler, while I wait for the crawler to get close. Then I place kick his head off.

"I'd say that's good for the extra point," Carter quips as the head goes bouncing down the hall.

I give the hand signal to halt, because I thought I heard something. As everyone goes back on high alert, I can hear heavy breathing, and it's not from us. I quickly flash out hand signals, directing the two behind me to cover the door to the right, while my partner and I take the door to the left, where the noise seems to be coming from.

We are just getting into position when the damn thing drops from the duct work and pipes above us.

It's a standard green Hunter, but the ambush tactic it just hit us with isn't in any of the reports on the damn things. I barely manage to duck a claw swipe, but the other three are not so lucky. My gun buddy ends up missing his head, and the other two each get a claw in the gut as it turns to them.

Then the rest of the team cuts the fucker in half.

Reports say that shotguns are less effective against them than a magnum pistol is, but that is buckshot. Our slugs are loaded hot, and hit a hell of a lot harder than a load of double ought buck.

"Cease fire!" Carter orders, not knowing if any of us are still alive up here. "Check the wounded!"

"I'll live, but I don't think any of the others can say the same," I call as they work their way forward, two moving past the scene of carnage to cover the rest, while they check us over.

Then the door I'm leaning against falls open, and I end up flat on my back with three zombies reaching down for me.

"Hands off the merchandise!" I snarl, rolling into a backward somersault and thrusting with my hands to put distance between me and them.

Of course, there is another one behind the desk where I land. "Piss off," I growl, smashing the shotgun into the side of his head and knocking him to the floor and away from me. Continuing the motion started with the hit, I shoulder my weapon and pull the trigger as I line up on them. Three shots, and three headless bodies hit the floor again with dull thumps. "Can't take a hint, can you?" I mutter as the one I knocked away scrabbles at my pant leg and prepares to bite. I manage to blast him without setting my leg on fire, yay me.

"You good boss?" Carter asks, carefully peeking around the edge of the door frame.

"Yeah, no damage beyond having zombie and Hunter splatter on me," I answer, pointing my weapon at the ceiling like they teach you.

"The rest of your point team bought it," he reports, stepping fully into the doorway.

"Check the other door yet?" I ask, since I was kind of busy clearing this one.

"Heh, broom closet, and even empty," he grins.

"Good. Well, we've accounted for two out of a possible dozen Hunters, and a handful of ex-support personnel. Send Carver in here to help me go through this office, and take the rest to check the next room," I tell him, sitting down at the desk and beginning to rifle through the drawers.

"Carver! You're with the Boss! Rest of you with me, we continue the sweep!" he bellows as he leaves the room.

"You wanted to see me?" she asks hesitantly as she enters, her shotgun cradled in both hands.

"Start going through that file cabinet, while I work over here," I tell her.

"Um, I'm not going to be much help on that, I don't speak or read Chinese," she tells me.

I slap myself in the head, because that didn't even occur to me.

"Okay, you get guard duty then," I tell her, rushing through everything I get, skimming them just enough to know that they are not the logs we are looking for, or proof that the bozos out here were up to something beside trying to find a permanent cure for this damn virus.

"Boss, we got a problem here," Carter reports.

"I didn't hear any shooting," I snark back. "So what's the problem?"

"The next room? Isn't," he answers. "It's a freight elevator. A big one."

At that I unleash a stream of mixed profanity that has most of them scratching their heads.

"Boss, this is Duffy," he calls as I get myself back under control. "Outer buildings sweep complete. No Hunters, but we toasted a spiders' nest, and finished off about a dozen shamblers."

"Understood. We just found something that doesn't sound very good, so time to hook back up. Leave a team of four to watch our rides and cover our tails if we need it, and bring the rest in with you. This place may be whole lot bigger than I was led to believe," I tell him. "And if that's the case, that fucking Colonel is going to get his ass kicked if we make it out of this."

"You get all that Carter?" I ask, to make sure I don't need to repeat myself.

"Wait for the rest, then I assume we are going on a little trip into hell," Carter answers.

"Unfortunately, yes," I answer, before getting back to the search, and sneaking a look at Carver.

"Do we have enough manpower for this development?" she asks, her face gone white, but her voice steady.

She's scared, but not panicking. Good, that mix will keep her, and us alive longer.

"At this point I don't know. But it's going to be weapons free down there. If it moves, and doesn't beg us not to shoot, its Swiss cheese," I tell her.

She grins a little at that, feeling a bit more confident that we are not taking any more chances that absolutely necessary. I wish I could be as confident in that….

"Everyone ready?" I ask as we assemble as a group on the lift platform.

A chorus of affirmative responses' come back.

"Security wheel, two ranks, one high one low," I order. Since we don't know if the lift comes down into an open room or a hall, I'm going to try my damnedest to make sure we don't get blindsided.

"Here we go," I warn them, slapping the control, before taking my place facing the door in the kneeling rank.

The lift is surprisingly quick, and as I was afraid of, it brings us down into the center of a large concrete chamber, with at least twenty zombies stumbling around.

Or I should say there _were_ before we came down. They don't last thirty seconds after we get a clear line of sight on them. My team doesn't wait for permission, and I'd probably shoot any of them that did.

"Clear," Duffy calls, followed by Carter.

"Clear," I confirm, accounting for my third of the ring and that all the infected are dead. "Who's got the door?" I ask, since I'm looking at solid walls on my side of the room.

"Here," Carter calls, his side of the ring already spreading out, kicking bodies and making sure none of them are playing dead.

Zombies playing dead…..it's almost funny if it wasn't so dangerous.

"You've got point," I tell Carter as he takes up position next to the door.

He nods at the guy on the other side, and on the count of three, they open the door, leading with their weapons, and start blasting immediately.

"Back them up!" I yell, but they are already in motion.

The second Carter calls "I'm out!" and spins away from the door, a replacement is there. Amazingly, this goes on for a full minute, before they stop.

"All targets down," the last man to take his place at the door announces, the rest in varying stages of reloading.

"I.D." I ask, since I just hadn't gotten a turn at the fish in the barrel….

"Infected, troop and doc," he reports, telling me there are lab coats along with the army green. We got an approximate count?"

"If that's not all of them it's got to be damn close to it," Duffy reports.

"Anything meaner than infected in there?" I ask, hoping that more of the truly dangerous B.O.W.s got accounted for during that little orgy of destruction.

"I mark two of the green scaly bastards at the back of the pile," he answers.

"Four down, eight to go," I sigh.

"How are you folks set for ammo?" Carver asks. She was next to me as we came down, so she didn't get in on the shooting gallery either.

"Take stock, and let us know if you're running low, I order.

After the gang makes sure they're still in the game, we proceed to head into the next room, which turns out to be a hub, with several closed doors leading out of it.

"Okay, you and you, cover the lift and make sure we can get out of here," I order, pointing at the two closest to the lift room.

"How do you two want to run this?" I ask Carter and Duffy after setting the rest of the team to cover the rest of the doors.

"Everything here not included in your brief then?" Duffy asks.

"We started working blind the second we found that lift," I confirm.

"Two man elements on point, with a reserve team here in the hub to respond to emergencies," Carter answers my earlier question. "Duffy and I lead, you head up the cavalry."

"What about the other three halls?" I ask, since counting the door to the lift, there are six separate ways out of the hub.

Might take longer, but gives us better survival odds," Duffy agrees. "And anything that comes out of the other halls gets massed firepower in its face."

"Do it," I agree.

Duffy no sooner opens the door to his hall then it all goes south. Hunters boil out of the hall, ripping into my team with a fury that you have to experience to believe.

"Fall Back! Hit them at a choke point!" I order, the survivors, splitting us up as we fall back to the other rooms closest to us, but if we stay in there we will be slaughtered.

B.O.W.s don't give a shit about friendly fire.

Carver sticks with me as we clear the door and turn to put some much needed distance between us and the monsters. We luck out, in that it's a fairly long hall, with another room at the far end.

"Cover the hall, I'll check the room," I tell her, waiting for her to signal understanding before splitting up. She flashes a thumbs up, and I'm through the door, shotgun swinging around as I scan the place as quickly as I can.

The sounds of combat from the rest have stopped, and that's either good, or very, very bad. The room is clean, and more importantly seems to be the control room for the lab in the next leg of the hub.

"Company!" Carver yells as she starts firing.

"Get in here!" I order, dashing back to the door, and adding my weapons fire to hers, giving her a chance to duck past me, into the semi-safety of the control room.

"I got two," Carver tells me, "both greens."

"I can't say for sure, but there were only three in the hall," I add.

Then we hear the roar, and the watch as the reinforced door shakes under a massive impact.

We share a grim look, and immediately start stuffing shells into our shotguns' magazines. Once mine is full I flip the switch over to full auto. It's going to kill my shoulder, but I want that thing dead fast. We split up, each of us going to a different side of the room, so that the monster will have to choose who he wants to kill.

Then the door crashes into the room, giving us a good look at part of the problem down here: the Mutated Hunter. This thing is rhino grey, and has spikes growing out of its joints, as well as having a set of damn _fangs _on top of its normal mouth full of murder. It gives us a really good look at those as it roars at us again. Final it has a set of claws that would make Freddy feel insecure, and is half again as tall as a normal green.

"Fuck off," I snarl at it, and we both open up. I'm going at it full rock and roll, so my gun is empty is under a minute. To little apparent effect. Although the pelting I was giving it convinced it to go after Carver first. My gun clicks empty as the thing takes a swipe at her, luckily just getting her gun.

"Hands off, she's with me," I tell it, dropping my gun and grabbing my Katana. I don't know what happened to this thing, but it's damn near bullet proof. But I figure if it's skin is like Kevlar, blades should work better than bullets.

I'm proven right as it rears back in shock and anger from my cut, giving Carter a chance to dive past it and get behind me, drawing her sidearm and waiting for a clear shot.

One she doesn't get as the thing spins faster that expect, and backhands me across the room into her, knocking us both to the floor.

"We are so dead," is all I can think, since I can't move after that last shot. Whether its shock, or something got broke when I hit I don't know. All I do know is that a murder machine is coming for us, and I can't do a fucking thing about it but lay here and wait for the end.

Carver is at least putting up a fight for us, blazing away with her sidearm as it approaches, the impacts not doing anything but seeming to piss it off even more. Her slide locks back on an empty mag, and that is when things get weird.

The Hunter raises one of those massive claws, clearly planning to take her head off, when a black blur suddenly hooks the beasts arm, and fucking _throws it across the room._

I'm not joking here, this is arguably the strongest thing I have EVER seen and this newcomer appears out of thin fucking air and tosses it across the room like I would to someone that laid hands on me without permission. I've learned since HOW he did it, but at the time? It was a fucking miracle.

"That's no way to treat a lady, even if they are shooting at your ugly ass," he jokes, putting himself between us and the beast. The guy, and the whole attitude and way he moves says it is, is wearing some kind of black armored suit, with funny design elements on his helm that remind me of wings for some reason.

The beast is back on its feet immediately, and roars again before leaping at him.

That would make most people piss themselves. Hell, it would scare the crap out of me, and I'm trained to deal with it. He just drops into a fighting stance are rears back his right arm.

And punches the damn thing in the face.

We are talking six and a half, seven hundred pounds of pure muscular murder, and he _punches it in the face, knocking it back across the room_.

"Stop playing with it and kill it," I finally manage to get out as my voice comes back to me.

"As ordered," he returns, god I can almost hear the grin in his voice, despite it being muffled by something.

He reaches over his shoulder and grab some kind of handle sticking out of the backpack part of his armor.

And whips out a lightsaber.

I may not have had much time for entertainment since I gave classes and training my all, but something's you just can't escape, and knowing a lightsaber on sight is one of those things.

Then he showboats a bit more, first taking one of the monsters arms, then the other, before slicing off its head as he spins around behind it, finishing the fight by cutting it's torso in half down the center.

"You two alright?" he asks, putting his weapon away, and moving back toward us.

I finally manage to get my limbs working again, and try to sit up. God was that dumb. That shot must have busted damn near all my ribs on that side.

"Not really, no," I gasp in pain.

"I'll live, I may never sleep again, but I'll live," Carver adds.

He just stands there, that T shaped visor in his mask starting to get a little freaky before he says, "Well Red, you've got three busted ribs on the right side, a dislocated shoulder, also on the right side, and you are going to have the mother of all bruises in an hour or so. But luckily for you, your partner hear broke your fall, so no internal bleeding."

"Get me vertical. We still have a mission to complete," I tell him.

"I know, but you're not going to find anything else down here," he says, slowly turning in a circle. I think he's got some weird sci-fi power armor on, complete with sensors and junk.

He proves it with, "Just scanned the place, and you are the only two other life signs down here."

"I'm going to kill that bastard," I growl, as I slowly work my way upright with Carvers help.

"Uh, I already did," he smirks, I can _hear_ it. "Were you that out of it? You did tell me to kill it after all."

"Not that thing, the bastard that lied to my face about this place," I snarl at him, then wince in pain and force myself to take small breathes.

"Computers are junk, hard drives are slagged," he reports, pulling the consoles apart with his armored hands.

"Are my people on the surface still alive?" I ask him.

He tips his head back, as if he can see through the dirt and rocks.

"Can't tell from here. Going to have to go up to find out," he answers. "Or I can take you back with me, and get those wounds tended to."

"We finish the mission, then I get patched up," I tell him.

"Okay Red, you're the boss here," he returns, carefully picking up my sword and inspecting it before walking behind me and sliding it home in its sheathe. "Nice weapon. Well cared for," he adds, before turning to the door. "I'll wait out here while you take care of first aid, then escort you back up top."

"Who was that masked man?" Carver quips, making me laugh, then hiss in pain.

"Tape me up, and then we can see if he will answer questions," I tell her, my voice tight with pain.

Getting my web gear and shirt off is torture, and when she pops my shoulder back into the socket I do actually scream a little. After that, she uses both rolls of medical tape, plus the ace bandages and the athletic tape I keep in my kit to wrap my ribs. As long as I take it slow, I can actually move without needing to scream, so I give her a nod and tell her, "Good work." She helps put me back together, and then we head out into the aftermath.

"Holding tanks are down that one," he reports, pointing to the door the Hunters rushed us from. "Had a bunch of locals in there, but the ones the hunters didn't get, I put down, since they were infected."

"That son of a bitch. He told me that the village was wiped out," I growl, disbelief in my voice. I warned that bastard what would happen if he was up to something out here. Guess he thought we wouldn't be coming back

"Let's get you back to the rest of your people," he says.

Carver hovers near me, just in case I need help. I would yell at her for it, but damn, that shot took the starch right out of me. I feel like I could sleep for a week.

We get on the lift platform, and Carver triggers the controls before jumping on after us.

We're halfway up when our mysterious stranger asks, "How many of your people did you leave up there?"

"Four, and our transport," Carver answers him, saving me the need.

"I've got better than two dozen human life signs up there," he reports, again looking up and seemingly _through _the rock.

Carver and I look at each other, and she pulls my pistol for me and puts in into my left hand. I'm not as good with my left, but I'll be damned if I'm going to be baggage.

"I'll let you try and talk with them. If they want to cause you trouble, I'll have your back," he tells us.

"You got anything besides the fancy sword?' Carver asks him.

"You might say that," he returns holding up an arm, and we watch as the armor shifts and slides forward, extending past his hand before tightening back up and locking into place. We can hear the high pitched whine coming from what looks like a really BIG gun that used to be his arm.

"Alright, it sounds like a plan," I agree, as the lift hits the surface.

He shadows us down the hall, and I stop Carver, and have her loop my left arm over her shoulder and wrap an arm around my waist, making it look like I'm busted up even worse than I already am.

We shove through the door, and come face to gun barrels with at least a dozen Chinese army regulars. Looking to my left, I see the remains of the people I had guarding our rides.

"These bastards don't leave alive," I mutter, just loud enough for Carver to hear me.

"Well, well, well. I see you really are just as dangerous as your reputation says you are. And nearly as tough as you think yourself to be as well," that arrogant shit of a colonel grins down at us from the hatch of an armored command car, his hand resting on the pintail mounted machine gun.

"You set us up from square one," I accuse.

"Very true. I admit that the reasoning I gave you was exactly how we procured the samples we needed to begin, but we had other plans once we had acquired the virus and bio weapon," he casually admits. "Although the rest of the story you were given was also true. One of our experiments DID accidentally mutate that Hunter, leading to the deaths of the people here. Tell me, did you manage to acquire any Data from the systems here?"

"No, your people slagged the drives before they died," I tell him, hoping that our armored friend is getting all this.

"Then I suppose this will mark the end of the Red Witch. Pity, you had such a bright future with B.S.S.A. from what I've been told," he smirks, raising his hand off the machine gun.

"When I tell you, eat dirt," we hear over our ear pieces.

"Aim!" the colonel calls, the rest of his goons taking position around us.

"You are so dead," I tell him.

He slashes his hand down, but before he can finish saying "FIRE!" we get the word and kiss the ground.

We don't see what kind of stuff our friend is firing, but both of the trucks we brought have erupted into fireballs, dropping the troops around us to the ground as well.

"MOVE!" I order Carver, while I just lay there and sight down my good arm, and begin taking care of business.

I fire my fourth round when I feel the large object pass over me, and the heat of rocket exhaust.

Carver calls out, "CLEAR!" about the same time I empty the last round from my pistol.

I just start working my way back to my feet when the screech of ripping metal echo's through the clearing.

"I believe this is what you're after?" our friend says, dropping the colonel unceremoniously at my feet.

"What are you?" he demands, scuttling away from the armored warrior.

"Someone who has a problem with the way you do business," he returns, crossing his arms over his chest plate.

"Ma'am, I believe there is one more infected to deal with," Carver states.

"Did my men here suffer, or did you make it quick?" I demand, slowly reloading my pistol.

"Snipers. You people are too dangerous to deal with any other way," he stutters, beginning to figure out that a jail cell is NOT in his future.

"Then I give you the same gift of a quick and painless death," I tell him, before blowing out both his knees.

His screams subside fairly quickly, and he demands though his sobs of pain, "I thought you said quick and painless?"

"I lied, just like you did. And your lies murdered my team. So you get to suffer like they did," I tell him, turning my back on him and staggering away. The roar of a shotgun proves that he really was that big a fool. "Thanks Carver," I tell her, just before the world tips sideways, and goes black on me.

* * *

"Welcome to the French Maid Planet cleaning crews. Prepare for outfitting," the robot says as it reaches for me.

"Yeah, right," I counter, bringing up the weird gun I'm training on and shooting the thing in the head. No recoil, and just a slight hum to tell me it's functioning. Damn this place takes some getting used to.

What? Oh, you want to know what happened. Well, long story short, the guy in the armor brought us back to his place after I passed out. Once I woke up, he formally introduced himself and gave us the nickel tour. He offered us a choice. He could either take us back home, where we would have to answer a lot of very hard questions, and no one would believe some of the answers, or we could stick around here and help him and some friends of his out.

Carver and I both decided to stick around. She actually has a degree in engineering, so she's helping with the project from a different angle than me. But first I need to train myself back up, and get the lowdown on the new threat.

Kidnapping robots, that enslave women and dress them in French Maid uniforms, and make them take care of them…

Makes bio weapons seem logical, doesn't it?

* * *

"Alexandria, this is The Red Witch. Toasters are Toasted. This fight is ours," I report, as the last of the Seeker drones crash to the ground, and the power armored women start falling back to the pickup point, so we can shuttle back up to the floating aircraft carrier that was the command ship for this operation.

"Agent Ikaki, this is Marshal Brady. Well done," I hear through the net, and I'm suitably impressed. Not every day you get props from the Supreme Commander.

"Red Witch to all C.A.T.s. The boss lady says good job, now let's go home," I call, waving them toward the ship.

It's actually nice to have one again. I'm not saying I'll never go back to my world again, but for now? AMAZON needs some good fighters, and as I've been discovering, I am one of the better ones. But these robots are a real pain in the ass.

My boot disturbs one of the remote bondage gizmos these robots use to catch us before they package us for transport. It suddenly jumps off the ground, and begins flying around me, a streamer of sticky tape dangling behind it that snags my shoulder, and then it accelerates, using the tape on me as it's center as it quickly wraps me from head to toe.

I let it finish, then I pop the claws on my gauntlets, and free my lower arms. A bit of struggling, and the serrated edges of the armor bite in and shred the rest of the tape.

I make a point to stomp the stupid little thing into scrap, before I continue on my way back to the ship.

The Red Witch isn't gone, she's just changed venues for a while.


End file.
